


Chosen

by Callista



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:11:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callista/pseuds/Callista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy dies and is reborn as another Chosen One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chosen

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, both Star Wars and Buffy are created by people much smarter and richer than me, unfortunately…  
> Spoilers: Episode I through VI  
> Setting: After season 7 for Buffy, disregards the comics, before and during Episodes I through VI for Star Wars.  
> Dedication: To my friends, for watching Star Wars with me, even though you’re not fans.  
> AN: Blame the Star Wars marathon we had for this. Not my best, a bit incoherent, but I thought I’d just throw it out here.

**Chosen**

Buffy Summers, oldest Slayer in recorded history, died as she’d lived: fighting. At 48, she still fought the good fight with everything she had, not even considering retirement. Heaven was waiting for her, would be her reward when she’d finished, but until then she had a Job, a Calling to do. And she’d give it her all. So when she finally died, leaving this world for the last time, it was with a mixture of regret for leaving her friends behind, relief that it was finally over, and anticipation for her reward, for seeing Mom and Dawn again. All she wanted was peace…

  


* * *

It was peaceful, here. Not quiet, not exactly, but warm, and loved, and safe. This was good.  
  
There was no way to measure time, here, but after a while (Days? Months? Years?) space became a problem. There was no room to move, no place for stretched out limbs to go. The boundaries of this Heaven were soft, but nearly unyielding. And the place kept shrinking, until all movement was impossible.  
  
And then – pain, harsh light, resurrection? It was cold, and scary, and crying didn’t help. It never did.  
  
And then – “It’s a boy!”  
  
And a voice, a voice from Heaven, says “Anakin. Anakin Skywalker.”  
  
And she is he, and life reborn, a new chance, a new family, normal, maybe? Peace? But not Heaven, and it isn’t fair, hadn’t Buffy earned a reward? And so Anakin cries, because he is weak and helpless, and everything is cold and harsh, and it hurt, being Buffy…

  


* * *

Everyone always tells Shmi how precocious Anakin is. He grew up so fast, learned to talk before he should, learned to walk almost before he could crawl, and he understands things no child could.  
  
They don’t know, can’t know about Buffy, about a life being Chosen, about fighting until you dropped, and not giving up. And Anakin keeps silent. He doesn’t even confide in his mother. Most days, he pushes Buffy away. It wasn’t him, not any more; he shouldn’t have to live with this, this horror, this knowledge. Other days, he wakes up, covered in sweat, dreaming about monsters and fighting and duty.  
  
It isn’t fair. Hadn’t Buffy earned a reward? But no, he lives as a slave, lives with knowledge no child should possess, knows how to kill. And Anakin decides, no more. No more living just for others, no more giving, giving, giving, and never getting. He would free his mother, have a family, have friends, and be normal.  
  
But Buffy is still there, and he can’t fight his nature. So he is Good, helping, being kind, loving and defending. But never forgetting his promise.  
  
When Anakin hears about the Jedi, he admires them. They fight the good fight, but not in the shadows, like Slayers did, never recognized, never thanked. And his nature, the part of him that tells him to defend people, to protect and help (but never alone, not anymore, and never Chosen), wants that.

  


* * *

When they enter the shop, Anakin knows there is something different about them. The girl, Padmé, is Good. She shines. She is beautiful. Not powerful, but full of promise. The man is powerful, and kind of Giles-y: wise and old.  
  
Anakin wants them. He wants the guidance of this man (Jedi?) like Buffy had Giles. And he loves the beauty, the goodness of this girl.  
  
Maybe he overplays the innocent-little-boy act, but he can’t think. He is stupid. Calling her an Angel, when there were no angel myths in this world (and no Heaven or Hell, only the Force, which was kinda like Magic, only you didn’t become one with Magic when you died, you went to Heaven).  
  
But he can’t stay away. So when he is dismissed early, he runs after them, easily finding them with his (Slayer? Jedi? Magical?) gifts. He knows they won’t stay, but as long as they are here…

  


* * *

“He is the Chosen One. You must see it!”  
  
The words cut through Anakin. Shocked, he looks up at Qui-Gon. No. Not again. He curses the Powers, because he knows it is true, and he hates them.  
  
But this time it will be different. This time he will find love, have a family, protect them, he won’t watch them die again, he will not give up everything for his calling. Not when he should have his reward, his Heaven. Not when all he gets is Purgatory. (Not Hell. Never Hell, because there is Padmé, who is Good, and Qui-Gon, who is Giles, only with power, and he can still help people. Free the slaves, like Buffy once did, and fight Evil. But this time he will also have Love and Family and Gratitude. Because he’s earned it.)

  


* * *

This is Hell. Not Heaven, not even Purgatory. Without Padmé, and his child, and Obi-Wan, it has to be Hell. No reward for him, not anymore. And he hates the Powers, for denying him Heaven, and he hates this world, for not being what he wants. And he hates Padmé and the child and Obi-Wan and Shmi for leaving him. (But most of all, he hates himself)

  


* * *

As he looks into his son’s eyes, he sees how he could – should have been. Good. Forgiving. Kind. Jedi or Slayer, all that matters is that you do your best to make the world a bit better; to fight for what is right. He is glad he’s dying (going to Heaven? Or Hell? See Padmé again?) because he did everything wrong, and he can’t live with that. The Emperor is dead. With his own death, Evil will be vanquished. It is as it should be. As he looks at Luke and sees Padmé in his face, he regrets everything. He was selfish, wanted everything and got nothing. He thinks of the daughter he never knew, the chances lost. And he is proud his children were stronger than he was.  
  
He dies…

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
